


Thou Shalt Not

by Cliophilyra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Basically PWP, First Time, Frottage, I hate tagging, M/M, Oral Sex, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1948821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gradually realises that what he feels for Cas maybe more than friendship.<br/>Cas may have been listening.</p><p>I really suck at writing summaries.<br/>Set somewhere toward the end of season 8.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thou Shalt Not

**Author's Note:**

> Ever so slightly inspired by the Dean version of A List of Rules, Established as I Go by coffeeandcheesecake.tumblr.com. (I think they are the original author - I'm sorry I'm not sure as most of the links to the original poem and the companion piece seem to be dead now - if you know differently please let me know!)
> 
> This is the first smutty thing I have written so I hope its not too awful :-)
> 
> Not beta read. Please tell me what you think!

Dean leans back against his Baby’s hood, letting the still-warm engine take the edge off the cold of the evening. He closes his eyes and puts his arms behind his head, breathes in the cold piney air, feels the pinging as the engine slowly cools and takes stock of his failures again. Sammy is sick, because of the trials that Dean should be doing. Benny is probably dead and Cas is gone who knows where again and Dean is gradually beginning to realise just how much he needs the Angel.

He’s said it before of course, “I need you,” and even then a tiny quiet part of him knew that wasn’t quite what he meant. He doesn’t mean that he needs him in the sense of needing something to complete a task - a tool. Rather in the sense of needing something that sustains you - Oxygen.

The moment he saw him back from Purgatory, all cleaned up and smiling was a bit of a game-changer. He knew then that he was definitely in trouble. The force with which that revelation hit him had almost made him gasp, he had tried to hide it but he knew Sam had noticed his shock, his weak attempt to cover up with an awkward smile and the way he squirmed in his seat as the unexpected warmth washed over him.

He has slowly become aware of being less bothered by Cas’ personal space issues and the way he stares. It used to un-nerve him but now if it makes him uncomfortable at all it is because he hears the blood rushing in his ears and feels like his voice and body are only tenuously under his control and that if one day, Cas stares at him for a second too long he will blurt it all out.

He squeezes his eyes tighter and breathes in hard. That would be a bad idea. He is an Angel and if that counts for anything it’s got to be something bad right?

Blasphemy? Oh Hell yes. He’s pretty sure that’s got to be right up there on someones list of Thou Shalt Not’s.

He smiles to himself wryly, since when has he given a fuck about blasphemy? His entire existence has been more or less the opposite of piety and he has no love for God as far as he knows him.

He does love Cas though, that’s the truth of it and that’s got to count for something, right? He sighs and opens his eyes to watch the fog of his breath roll up into the chilly star-flecked sky.

It’s all moot anyway isn’t it? Why would Cas need you, want you? Cas loves him too, he thinks, but he’s pretty sure loving everyone is Angel 101. He knows Cas says they have a profound bond but he’s fairly sure Cas thinks of that as the sort of bond that Dean has with Sammy - protection, care, brotherhood, family, an admittedly unhealthy need to sacrifice themselves for each other but definitely platonic. And Dean has basically fucked that up by falling in love with him.

Shit.

He never intended for that to happen. Never in a million years expected to fall in love with a dude. He shakes his head slightly as if to dislodge that thought. He is not gay! “Grow up!” he exclaims, making himself jump with the force of the words he had not intended to say aloud. On those nights when he can’t stop himself he has been over this ground before. He has been with hundreds of women, he tells himself.

Yeah, and they were all such roaring successes weren’t they? He laughs bitterly. You can’t tell yourself you never thought about it, even before him. Never looked?

Still, the fact remains, he’s pretty sure that Winchester men are not meant to fall for guys. On the other hand the things Winchesters are meant to do are generally awful so fuck that. 

If we are Team Free Will then can’t this be part of that? Choosing our own path, making it up as we go? Well congratulations, you’ve convinced yourself but what fucking good is that? It takes two to Tango as they say.

He is an Angel; a multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent. He is not going to want to be your boyfriend dumbass. What have you done or could you ever do to deserve something like him? Looks like you’ve just found something else to push down under the booze and violence. Well done. Just what you needed.

Dean raises a hand to his face, feeling something tickling his ear and is surprised to realise that he is crying. He hardly even notices any more. He is fed up of tears, bottled up pain and longing.

Fuck it! Try and be vaguely healthy for once in your life. He is an Angel, he will understand even if he doesn’t reciprocate. The only one you can hurt here is you and goddammit you’re used to that. 

Next time you see him tell him.

There is a slight shift in the hood under him, his eyes flash open and he sits bolt upright, hand reaching automatically for his gun. Cas is leaning against the hood next to him, fixing him with that familiar curious stare, head tilted slightly.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean blinks rapidly, opens his mouth, closes it again - Did he hear any of that? Did I say any of it out loud? Is he reading my mind? “I..uh..Cas!” he says helpfully, vaguely aware that he probably looks like he is having a stroke. Tell him! Tell Him! TELL HIM! Is roaring in his ears.

Cas looks at him carefully and squints slightly, cocking his head as if he is listening to something very far away, “I love you too Dean” he says firmly.

Dean is still staring, eyes wide, mouth open, definitely looking like a lobotomy patient. His mind is all white noise and then chaos; he wants to make a joke, to run away, to laugh it off, to yell at him.

NO. Man up Winchester.

So, with a feeling like taking a running jump from a great height he turns toward Cas, reaches out and places his hand lightly on the back of his neck and pulls Cas towards him. Cas smiles widely and Dean is still falling. The Angel’s eyes are like sapphires and his skin is cold and smooth and his hair is so soft and then their lips are touching.

Cas’ lips are dry and slightly wind-chapped and he kisses Dean back hard, bringing his hand up to his face, running his hands over his rough jawline and his fingers up into his hair and Dean has landed safely and all the voices in his head have finally shut the hell up.

Dean pushes his tongue gently between Cas’ lips. Cas makes a soft dark sound deep in his throat, opening his mouth hungrily and biting gently at Dean’s bottom lip. Cas tastes like the metallic smell before snow and faintly like peppermint. For some reason he can’t really explain Dean thinks it is the taste of power harnessed and confined. There is such urgency and want in Cas, Dean would never have believed the Angel could feel this way about him. He pushes his other hand into Cas’ hair and pulls him over to kneel above him on the Impala’s hood.

Dean pushes Cas’ trench coat back off his shoulders, kissing wetly and clumsily down his jawline, under his ear, down his neck. Cas murmurs breathlessly in his ear, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, making Dean growl in response as he struggles to get rid of his own jacket without loosing his claim on Cas’s mouth.

Suddenly his jacket has disappeared and Cas is smiling a devious smile against his lips. “Oh ok, useful” Dean laughs. Cas smirks again and lowers his mouth to kiss Dean’s throat, biting gently along his collarbone. Dean groans loudly at the sensation of his Angel’s teeth and lips on his neck.

Cas’s trench coat slides, unregarded, off the hood and into the dust.

How did he get to have this? Knowing his luck it’s probably a fucking dream. “This is not a dream Dean,” Cas murmurs in his ear and Dean doesn’t even care that he is reading his mind, he just grabs a handful of Cas’ shirt, pulling it up and pushing his hands underneath, running them over his cool, smooth skin and the powerful muscles of his back.

Weird how it doesn’t feel weird. Different, he supposes but he scarcely notices. He wants Cas and now he has him he realises; male or female, the vessel makes no difference, he wants Cas regardless.

Cas’ fingers grip the front of Dean’s shirt while his mouth finds his again and crushes their lips together. So this is what he learnt from the Pizza man Dean thinks with a smile. Cas slides his tongue against Dean’s as he pushes his T-shirt up and then draws back, breaking the kiss and Dean feels himself push up a little, chasing the kiss that had once made him jealous of a demon. Cas moves, licking a trail down Dean’s chest, flicking his tongue across one nipple, sending sparks shooting down Dean’s body and making him harder than he already was, which is apparently possible.

The Angel continues to kiss his way down Dean’s stomach to the top of his jeans. When he feels Cas’ fingers on his buttons Dean moans and Cas looks up at him and smiles, bright blue eyes through lowered lashes. Dean bites his lip and shoves his hands into Cas’ hair again as Cas pushes down his jeans and boxers, freeing him and licks up the length of his cock hungrily.

“Oh Fuck!” Dean exclaims, dropping his head back against the hood with a thud. He rakes his fingers across Cas’ scalp and hears a slight whimper in response. He feels Cas’s breath and the cold air catching his wet skin makes him flinch a little. “Fuck!” He says again, not able to come up with anything more eloquent for the moment. Where the fuck did an Angel learn to do this?

He feels Cas’s lips twitch against him as he smiles and then Cas takes the whole length of him in his mouth and everything is alight under his skin. Cas’s mouth is hot and wet and amazing. A hundred times better than anything Dean has totally never imagined.

He curls his fingers in Cas’s hair, pulling ever so slightly as he thrusts up into his mouth, trying to be gentle but also wanting to feel more. More. Now. Cas’s tongue swirls around his cock, flickering over the head then taking him deeper, making Dean gasp and keen and he knows he is close but as amazing as this is he wants to see Cas, kiss him, look into his eyes when he comes. With a huge effort of willpower he reaches down and takes hold of Cas’s shoulders and pulls up gently. Cas’s eyes flick up to his and looking into that familiar calm and enquiring heavenly blue while Cas is sucking his cock is very, very nearly more than Dean can take. Cas seems to know what he wants though, of course he does. He gives one more long suck and releases him with a wet pop that is frankly filthy, moving up his body with a crooked smile and pressing his lips to Dean’s. He tastes warm and salty and again it should be weird but its not.

Breathing hard, Dean licks into his Angel’s mouth greedily and grabs Cas’s ass with both hands pulling them closer together and grinding against him.  
He can feel the heat and rigid length of Cas’s erection pressing against his own, he is painfully hard and judging by the desperate sounds coming from Cas’s throat he is close.

He squeezes Cas’s ass again, heaving against him and then reaches between them, running his palm hard over Cas’s crotch and undoing his fly at the same time. He reaches in, takes Cas’s cock and his own in one hand and they begin to thrust against each other harder. Cas is incoherent and wrecked, moaning Dean’s name as he pushes into Dean’s fist. Dean kisses his neck, biting gently, savouring the friction of their skin and the coiling, twisting warmth that is starting to build and gather. “I…for so long Cas...love you..” Dean sighs, just a litany now, a prayer recited into his Angel’s ear.

His hand is slippery and hot and they are both drenched, Cas groans softly, collapsing against him and biting his shoulder as he comes into Dean’s hand and seconds later Dean is there too, gasping Cas’s name aloud. Everything in his vision goes white as he comes into his own fist and over Cas’s stomach.

For a long moment there is silence, long enough for Dean to start to feel the bright edges of panic to creep in to his post coital bliss. What is he thinking? Does he regret it?

Cas suddenly sucks in a breath and pushes himself up slightly so he is leaning over Dean, gazing into bottle green eyes. The angel reaches up with a smile, his fingers around the nape of Dean’s neck, his thumb tracing over his eyelids, cheek and dragging over perfect lips, now slightly bruised and kiss-swollen, and pulls him down into a deep lingering kiss.

Dean guesses that this must be what it feels like to come home.


End file.
